Over the Rainbow

Welcome to the first (and hopefully not last!) installment of Over the Rainbow, a serial blog aimed at highlighting hallmarks of LGBT culture throughout history. Here you'll find celebrities, artists, writers, painters, musicians known for either their sexuality (or questioned for it), or their material as it speaks out towards a community of individuals seeking identity and union. These individuals will stretch throughout history, so no, this is not merely a cover of the most current and rising gay icons (though Gaga and Britney will get their dues, I promise!) Think of this as a history lesson that sheds light on LGBT issues at various points in time.

To begin this series let us look to the film that made the title of this blog famous: The Wizard of Oz. Released in the summer of 1939, the film is an adaptation of L. Frank Baum's work The Wonderful Wizard of Oz that covers the fantastical and often dangerous adventures of Dorothy Gale as she wanders through the Land of Oz to find her way back home to Kansas. The film is noted for its cinematography, which places a very distinct contrast between Dorothy's dreary home in Kansas (shot in Sepia tone), and the vibrant and brilliant Land of Oz (shot in Technicolor). Another directing choice that separates the film from the novel is the use of parallel characters, as Dorothy encounters individuals in Oz that mirror those back home, who are in fact played by the same actors.

This combination dualism and juxtaposition of color has itself been seen as a commentary of LGBT societal pressures to play two separate characters: that which satisfies and conforms the reserved and strained heteronormative culture of the time, and the freer, more vibrant Land of Oz that celebrates individuality and creativity. This vivacity and otherworldliness is itself the epitome of camp, that over-the-top theatricality and performance that sheds all inhibitions and worries over the eyes of judgmental observers. Judy Garland, herself, is considered an example of camp personified, lending to her labeling as one of the most famous gay icons in the 20th century, her personal struggles during her later career garnering identification and support from the gay community and culminating in a cult following of impersonators and adoring fans. In fact, Garland's portrayal of the young farm girl was so adored that a common covert conventionality (alliteration much?) of the time was to refer to a member of the LGBT community as a "friend of Dorothy." Like the companions that Dorothy meets along the yellow brick road, these individuals were also different, awkward, or socially unacceptable by society for going against the grain.

Looking closer at the title song, it is clear that the singer longs for somewhere where they can fully express themselves, where "the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true," free of repressing naysayers. How can individuals struggling to either identify or express their sexuality not relate to this desire to be treated with full merit to have all their troubles "melt like lemon drops" and make the bold claim that they too are a person with feelings and rights to exist and be heard among the masses. The rainbow, too, is both the manner in which to achieve this acceptance as well as the most prevalent example iconography in the LGBT, a banner and symbol of unification for all those that dare to stray from the status quo. Even the last line of the song, repeated for emphasis, is a call for change:

If happy little blue birds fly

beyond the rainbow,

why, oh why cant I?

The singer's pathos can either be of indignation at those who repress or irony, for who is anyone to deny a person their right to reach their full potential and seek out their own happiness? Unfortunately, for manner this lyric may also resonate as a futile attempt to break free of the ties that, for now at least, continue to weigh them down and leave them room only to dream. I now leave you all with a clip from another famous Judy Garland film, Meet Me in St. Louis, as my personal wish for you to find joy and happiness this Holiday Season, regardless of your religious affiliations. Maybe next year, our troubles, too, will be miles away:

Soon-to-be Camp Counselor; Always an Ally

After being home for the past few weeks, I’m getting ready to leave to work at a Jewish, outdoor adventure, overnight camp (Ramah Outdoor Adventure). I like to think of it as Boy Scout camp meets Judaism (and girls). The camp opens this summer and is the latest initiative by Ramah—the official summer camp organization of the Conservative Movement of Judaism (not to be confused with conservatism in American politics).

I had the great fortune of being a camper at Ramah Darom (in Georgia) for several summers. Experiences from camp, along with relationships with my peers and my counselors/other staff members, played a very pivotal role in my life. Over the years I had counselors who were always there to listen, counselors who challenged me, counselors who believed in me, counselors who reminded me to not take life too seriously, counselors who showed me the ins-and-outs of Judaism, counselors who shared my passions, counselors who were my friends, and counselors who modeled for me what it meant to embrace my full self (eccentricities included). I know firsthand the power that a counselor can have on a camper looking for a role model or a mentor.

The campers I’ll have this summer are mostly rising 8th-10th graders (though I'll also work with rising 6th/7th graders and families). They’re old enough that they’re “real people,” but that also means that they’re tenuously trying to navigate their lives: their sense of self, their peer group, and their values, just to name a few. [Any readers extra-eager to re-live those years? ‘Cause, uhhh, you won’t find me volunteering for the chance.] I am excited, however, to be their friend and I hope to have a lasting impression. In this way, it’s important to me that I’m visible.

I want every camper to feel safe, valued and respected. I want every camper to know that I am her or his ally. I want any camper who is out in other areas of her or his life to be comfortable being out at camp. I want any camper who is still in the closet to know that I’m on her or his side and that she or he can talk to me in confidence (for that matter, I hope a camper who is out feels comfortable talking to me about any issues that arise). I want any camper who is in the closet to feel that camp is a supportive environment where she or he can safely begin her or his coming out process (I recognize that the three immediately preceding points are easier said than done).

Even if there is not a single LGBT-identified camper (either in or out of the closet), there are still messages I hope to impart. I want every camper to understand that Conservative Judaism does not condemn LGBT-identified members of our community. On the contrary, The Seminary will admit and ordain openly gay and lesbian-identified individuals [the current Jewish law does not address trans nor bisexual rabbis]. Last but not least, I want every camper to leave camp thinking that being an ally and standing up against homophobia are “cool” and feeling empowered to act accordingly.

[These are, maybe obviously, not my only goals as a counselor; rather, goals I’ve given very deliberate thought to for months. I also, perhaps predictably, want to be a beacon of feminism (a loaded goal which I won't unpack here); I want to be there for my campers to listen about any issue they may be facing—not just LGBT themed struggles; I want to imbue my campers with self confidence; I want to help them to reach their personal goals; I want to help them to strengthen their Jewish identity; I want to facilitate them making relationships among themselves; I want them to learn to be comfortable with themselves.]

That all sounds real swell, but creating a safe space, making myself approachable and empowering campers to speak up will not just happen by mere virtue of me being a counselor. It takes deliberate actions. So, how will I do this? And, how can I do this without overstepping a boundary of being overly “political” in my role as a counselor?

The second question first: There are plenty of ways to stand up for LGBT issues without invoking the politics of today. I can’t say whether the issue of marriage or Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell will come up—though if it does, it will be because a camper initiated the conversation. However, I don’t believe (and I think that the readers of the blog will agree with me) that affirming the worth of any of my campers is “political.”

To create this type of environment, though, I must be visible. Some actions, by their very virtue, will be reactive, while I can do others at anytime. Hopefully, nothing occurs which would force me to intervene. However, I will do my best to be aware of situations which may arise. For instance, when used, I will speak up against homophobic slang and facilitate conversations about the role of language. If it happens, I will question why someone’s sexuality was a qualifying adjective to a story. If a camper is out of the closet, I will be sure to pay close attention as to how this is perceived by his or her cabinmates. If an issue arises, I will be quick to act in his or her defense [this is, I believe, a situation especially unique unto overnight camp, since living space isn't typically intimately shared until college]. Similarly, I will pay close attention to if a camper's gender expression or perceived sexual orientation becomes the target of his or her peers and will act accordingly if necessary. This may sound like I'm expecting the worst, but really I'm optimistic that the most reactive I'll have to be is to everyday slang [no homo(phobia)].

Other things I can do start on the very first day. I will do my best to use affirming and inclusive language. I will proudly don my Love=Love and no homo(phobia) shirts. I will wear my BDU silicone bracelet and I will display a rainbow sticker on my nalgene and a rainbow ribbon on my backpack. Perhaps most importantly given the nature of the camp as observantly Jewish, I will be prepared to the best of my ability to answer questions and present information about LGBT issues and Judaism.

I should note that I was excited to see "sexual preference" included in our anti-discrimination policy. I could be critical of the outdated language (sexual preference vs. sexual orientation), but I'm just glad to know that the directors of the camp are forward thinking, aware of these issues, and dedicated to seeing that homophobia not be part of our camp culture. I have every reason to believe that this was not just included in the policy as an empty formality, but a genuine concern. In fact, last summer (at a week for potential staff members) I recall having a conversation about homophobia with our director; he also "liked" a link to my Day of Silence post on facebook.

I'm excited for the challenges that await me--personally, Jewish-ly, and professionally--and I'm excited to expand the ways in which I speak out against homophobia. Like Veronica’s “informal research,” I look forward to reporting back to you about my experiences.

But first, Readers, I'd like to learn from you what your experiences have been as a camp counselor or a camper. How did you see homophobia manifest itself? What are ways that you addressed it? What positive stories can you share about being out at camp (as a camper or counselor)? Please help me to be the best that I can be this summer!

[Sports related blogs will be posted during the next few months while I’m away. Please note, however, that I’ll be mostly unable to engage with you in the comments section. The camp at which I will be a counselor has very limited internet service!]